~His Beloved~

Estranged Love

(A/N: Slight maturity towards the end. You have been warned!)

Over the time that Anne and Henry spent apart they began express their feeling through letters of the heart.

"Seas seperate our contact/
Touch me with your words where hands cannot reach/
Make love to my soul"  - Anne B.

Sometimes they came months at a time or when the other needed a feeling of comfort that could only be brought on by the emotion of their lost loves.

"Your eyes are black diamonds/
Alluring to man, yet cold to the soul/
Hair as dark as night, soft to touch and light as a feather/
I dream to see you dance as each strand blows in the cold winter breeze/
Your body mirroring the elegance of a raven that flies around mind onto heart 'til I can no longer think clearly/
My hands reach out to touch your body only to discouraged by your still missed presence/
Soon we will reunite & be as one flock"  - Henry Rex

Anne played along to Henry's growing affection as her first year in France rolled by. Henry's words ceased half a year in which time Queen Katherine birthed a healthy baby girl. As a result of the humbling event the Duke of York found himself engaged against his wishes to a spanish bride, cousin to his sister-in-law. King Arthur settled with the thought of leaving his kingdom to his beloved daughter, whom was loved by the people. With the support of the English commonors, Princess Mary Tudor was crowned, Princess of Wales, at only six months old. Concluding the celebration of Princess Mary's newest title her uncle, by the order of the King, married his fiancee.

By the coming new year, Lady Anne Boleyn fell into a deep depression at the news of the royal wedding. Prince Henry was officially married to his new wife, Princess Sofia, Duchess of York. She spoke very little english, thankfully Prince Henry happened to be fluent in her ative tongue, castilian. The Duke of York spent little time with his wife, who spent most of her time serving her elder cousin, Queen Katherine. It was it in the fouth month of Anne's thrid year in exile she received a new letter from Henry.

"I pray you remember the time we shared together, for I have yet to forget. She holds no part of my heart for tis' be yours for the taking. We share a bed, nothing more. One day you will experience the isolation of marriage & understand. Nothing more be' betwee us than a contract forged by our betters, & thus my duty to oblige. Know this, when my lips press to hers tis' be yours I seek. When I dance, my mind pictures your face. Your memory will never be forgotten, nor will it ever fade. We will meet someday & be together once more." - Henry Rex

Anne desired to believe him, yet she'd grown accustom to her life in France. She spoke french as if it were her native language and dressed in the French fashion from headdress to heel. If a french noble spoke to her, they'd never guess she was an English woman. Unlike the stiff atmosphere of English court showered be morally acts of women, french court engulged in their sexuality. Anne had grown into her own woman, no longer afraid to bed a man outside of wedlock. She'd yet to find a lover to share her first time with, too busy drowning her sorrows caused by a certain English royal. That did not stop them from requesting her as their mistress, none found themselves successful. That was until Anne Boleyn was enticed by a dashing, blonde hair, green eyed french duke.

He shared Anne's taste in literature and music, but challeged her to think ulike any other. For every theory Anne predicted, he poked holes within and made her question her beliefs. His art of seduction did not take long to cosummate. To say she enjoyed her conjugal time with him was other story. Her mother told her stories of how the first time could feel dependig on the man. A man that she knew, and who knew her understood how to please her. A stranger would be detached and unemotional, quite painful really. Her partner was neither. He understood her mind, but knew nothing of her body, nor did he care to. That night she spent in bed pleasing his every need, while he ignored hers. She withered beneath him as he held her hands above her head and roughly took her. She cried out in pain from begining to end, while he moaned in ectasy at the feeling of her tightness. She felt him inside even after it was over.

Her wrist were bruised from his tight grip. Anne's dark orbs were reddened from all her crying and she felt sore all over. Their first time was not the last, and before Anne knew it, she developed a liking to the way he devoured her. It was passionate and fierce & always in the heat of the moment. They made love like animals without a care in the world, yet discreet. Anne would not openly be aknowledged as his mistress, or did anyone besides the King know of their short lived romance. Anne remained a coveted jewel aftet it came to an end. The only difference was now she was a more experienced jewel. She was a wild fire compared to the little spark she arrived in the French court as. She had no time to take a new lover as her fourth year in exile was to be her last because as french court went on scandal after scandal, England was suffering from a great loss.